


his shadow

by ascii



Category: Moon Knight (Comics)
Genre: Ableism, Dissociative Identity Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 10:26:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8158862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ascii/pseuds/ascii
Summary: marc tries therapy again.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ive barely edited this + i hate the ending but im done with it for now i think??? i might revisit it one day but probably not/// hopefully the other two hardcore mk fans in existence will enjoy  
> heavily inspired by this mix: http://8tracks.com/bayonetta/eat-yourself

“Hi, Marc. I'm Wendy. Please, sit down.”

She spoke too calmly. Marc thought it was meant to antagonize him. He sat anyways. “Do you know who I am?” He said.

His therapist cocked her head. “Marc Spector? Unless I'm speaking to someone else?”

“It's Marc today.” He said. “I meant...Do you know the other me. The vigilante.”

“Oh?”

“I'm Moon Knight.”

“...How long have you been Moon Knight?”

Marc paused. “You believe me?”

Wendy shrugged. “I don't know. I've only just met you.”

“...Well, I am—I'm Moon Knight, and I...I see this _god_ , Lord Khonshu. He talks to me.”

“Is he talking to you right now?”

_Listen to yourself. She's going to lock you up._

“Yes.”

Wendy sat back. “I'm glad you're being so open with me early on.”

“I just want to know if I'm crazy or not.”

“You're not crazy.” Wendy said.

 _Liar_.

“You don't know me yet.” Marc made a list of all the things he hated about himself. Hallucinations. Obsessions. Personalities he couldn't keep track of. How _horrible_ he was to everyone he loved.

“I don't think anyone is _crazy_ , Marc.” She continued. “They're just...Sick.”

“Yeah. Sick in the head. That's me.”

“Why do you think that?”

Marc looked at her like she was stupid. “I hurt people because a moon god tells me to.”

_Smooth._

“You _hurt_ people?”

“Yes. I—I don't kill anymore, but I'm not... _Gentle_.”

“Are you angry?”

“ _Yes._ ”

_God yes._

“...Let's talk about that later, ok? I want to know more about you. What your life is like.”

Marc stared at the floor. “I wake up. I live off leftover money from...A lot of different things. I know it's going to run out eventually, so I'm trying to be humble.”

 _Living like a rat._ Khonshu was standing in the corner. _When you're supposed to be my king._

“Why do _you_ care?” Marc mumbled.

_My vengeance applies to you too, Knight._

“I'm—I.” Marc looked over at his therapist. Khonshu chuckled when he saw Wendy's confused face.

“Are you talking to someone else?” Wendy said.

“Khonshu. Like I said. Crazy.”

“Where is Khonshu?”

“Over th—Nevermind. What were we talking about?”

“Your lifestyle. You were telling me you live modestly.”

“Yeah. I don't leave the house much. I exercise. I've got bad knees.”

“Really? What happened to them?”

_Don't reveal your weaknesses._

“I got in an accident. I couldn't walk for a while. I've been through a lot of physical therapy.”

“That sounds _difficult_. You're very brave.”

_She's pitying you. Show her you're not a sob-story._

“It happened while I was trying to kill a man.”

_There you go._

“...Did you succeed?”

Marc bit his lip. “Let's talk about something else.”

“What do you do during the day?”

“I sleep. I plan. I eat.”

“How often do you eat?”

“Once a day.”

“When did you eat last?”

“Twelve hours ago.”

“How long have you been awake?”

“I don't know. Maybe 36 hours.”

“...What do you do at night?”

Marc didn't know how to answer that. Khonshu stared at Wendy. _Tell her._ He said. _Tell her about your faith._

“I do Khonshu's bidding.”

“Which is...?”

“I protect the night-traveller. I seek vengeance.”

“What does that look like?”

“I hurt people.”

“Ok.”

“Mostly bad people. But I hurt them _badly_.”

“But not killing?”

“Not anymore.”

“That's good.”

_Is it?_

Marc remembered what he was there for. “Am I crazy?”

“Why do you want to know if you're crazy?”

Marlene's face flashed into his head. Her hair tangled over his pillow. Frenchie's arms around him. Gena's cooking. Crawley's smile. “I've hurt a lot of people I care about.”

_They weren't worthy._

“I know I don't deserve them, but I want to know if...If I _could_ deserve them. If I could be a man who deserves to have people like that.”

“I don't think you don't 'deserve' anyone, Marc. People choose whether or not to be around you, and you have to respect their decision.”

“I want to change their minds, then.”

“We can work on that.”

Marc looked at the clock. “So that's it? You're not going to put me in a straight jacket?”

Wendy laughed. “No, no. I do want you to come back next week though.”

_She's lying._

“Are you just saying that so you can get paid again?”

Wendy shook her head. “No. I want to help you so you _don't_ have to keep paying me, and you can move on with your life.”

Marc stood up, and showed himself the door.

_Don't go back there._

 

“I don't know why I'm here.” Marc said.

Wendy looked confused. “You don't want to get better?”

Marc scoffed. “I _can't_. I'm cursed.”

“Cursed? How so?”

“I bear the cross of Lord Khonshu.”

“Is he here again?”

_You're embarrassing yourself._

“Yes.”

“Is he telling you to hurt people?”

_Kill her. She knows too much._

“Yes.”

“Is he telling you to hurt yourself?”

_You're pathetic._

“No. Not exactly.”

She stared at him. “Do you do what he tells you to?”

_Of course you do._

“Of course I do.”

“You aren't right now.”

_Not yet._

“This is an exception.”

Wendy smiled. “Good. I'm glad therapy is important to you.”

He bit his lip. “What are you trying to do?”

She looked down at her clipboard. “Good question. It looks like you have two options for dealing with Khonsu.”

“Khonshu.”

“Khonshu, sorry. You can either get rid of him, or get him to be kinder to you and the people around you.”

Marc couldn't help his laughter.

_I told you this was a waste of time._

“What?”

“You think I have any control over him.” Marc wiped a tear from his eye, though he wasn't sure it'd been brought on by his laughter.

Wendy sighed. “It's your mind, Marc. No one can control it but you.”

“But I can't control it.”

“That's why you're here, then. To learn how.”

Marc frowned. “And what if you can't help?”

She held his gaze. “Then he will keep bothering you until you hurt yourself or someone else.”

Marc's face darkened. _As if that hasn't already happened,_ he thought, _as if things could get any worse._

 _Oh, trust me, they can._ Khonshu said.

Marc noticed him standing behind his therapist. He was staring down at her like a predator watching its prey.

“I don't want to hurt her.” Marc said.

Wendy froze. “Is someone telling you to hurt me?”

“No, I—No.”

_I could kill her, you know. I gave you life, what makes you think I can't take it from anyone else?_

“Don't.”

_She's already changing you. Making you think you can talk back to me. Don't you know how much you owe me?_

“Of course.”

“Marc?” Wendy said.

_Don't answer her. Pay attention to me._

“What do you want?”

_Your prayer._

“Haven't I given you enough?”

_I could say the same about you._

“Why are you doing this _here_?”

_We're going to scare her off. She'll see you're a lost cause._

Marc looked away. “This is good for me. It'll make me stronger.”

_She's going to tell you to hurt me._

“I couldn't if I tried.”

_I don't need you. You know that._

“...I know.”

_Answer her. She's been waiting patiently._

Marc locked eyes with his therapist. “Uh. What were you asking?”

She spoke gently. “Were you talking to Khonshu just now?”

He stared at the floor. “Yeah.”

“Did he tell you to hurt me?”

“He doesn't need me for that.”

“He's wrong, Marc.”

He looked up at her. She looked sure of herself. “The only person in this room who can hurt me is you, and I know you're not going to do that.”

“What? Why?”

“You aren't a bad person, Marc.”

He reasoned she was just doing her job. Telling him what he wanted to hear. He stood up.

“I'm going to get going.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“I hope you come again, Marc.”

_Liar._

 

Marc came to his next appointment hiding his costume under a dirty hoodie and jeans. Wendy noticed immediately. “Aren't you afraid of people learning your secret identity?” She said.

Marc folded his hands. “That's only for people with loved ones to protect.”

“Don't you want to protect yourself?”

He stared at her like she was stupid. “It's  _everyone else_ who should be protecting themselves from  _me_ .”

Wendy frowned. “Is Khonshu still telling you to hurt them?”

_There's something wrong with her. Kill her while you have the chance._

“Obviously.”

“Have you tried talking with him?”

_She's giving off huge amounts of astral energy._

“No—Wait, really?”

“What?”

_She isn't human. Not entirely._

Marc looked over to Khonshu—this week he was leaning in the doorway. “What do you mean,  _not entirely_ ?”

_There's something protecting her. Something strong._

Marc looked back to Wendy. “You wouldn't happen to be using me for revenge against your homeland or anything, right...?”

She listened intently. “Is that what Khonshu is telling you?”

“...Just something that's happened before.”

_I told you this would end badly._

“Is he telling you bad things about me?”

“Yes—No—I—Uh—”

Then Khonshu was gone. The weight of him was lifted from Marc's consciousness, and it felt as though a life-long headache had finally ended. He gasped for air, and resisted the urge to scream.

“Wh-Where is he...”

“Where's who, Marc?”

“Where's Khonshu, what did you do to him, I—I  _need—_ ”

“You don't need him, Marc.”

Marc clutched his head. “Come back, please, my _lord_ , please—”

Wendy touched his shoulder. He shoved her backwards, and in the same movement, felt Khonshu swell back into his mind.

_Don't come back here._

“W-What?”

“Marc?”

_She's cursed. She did this to me._

Marc stood up and backed away from his therapist. “Keep away from me.” He said. “Keep away or I'll kill you.”

Wendy recoiled. “I'm not trying to hurt you—What is he telling you?”

_“You're the devil.”_

 

Moon Knight visited Wendy late the next night. She was waiting for him when he found her, trying to look calm, the kind of calm you saw in hostage videos, with big eyes and chewed lips. He noticed the outline of a gun in her breast pocket.

“Marc...? Is that you?” She said.

“Spector's not here.”

“Who am I talking to?”

“Moon Knight.”

“Ok, _Moon Knight_ —have you hurt my family?”

“No. You're welcome.”

“Are you going to hurt  _me_ ?”

_Not yet._ Khonshu said.  _We need to know more about her._ He was standing behind his Knight and talking into his ear.

“Is someone telling you to hurt people, Marc?”

_“My name isn't Marc.”_

_Maybe she's stupider than we thought._

“Moon Knight, is someone telling you to—”

“I'm not like Spector.”

“What?”

“I'm not crazy, because I'm not human. I am Moon Knight. I seek vengeance. I protect the night-traveller. I do Lord Khonshu's bidding.”

“C-Can I talk to Marc?”

_“No.”_

She reached for her gun. He disarmed her easily—he'd never seen someone who didn't hold a gun as though it were a part of them. 

_Confront her. Tell her you know what she is._

“This is an act, isn't it.” He said. “You're trying to make me take pity on you.”

“Please, Marc, I'm not—”

_“I told you I'm not Marc.”_

_Keep pressing. She can't keep this up forever._

“Moon Knight, just let me—”

“Who are you?”

“I'm Wendy Selkey, I'm your therapist—”

“ _Who are you?_ ” He held the gun to her head.

She froze, then the fear left her face, and he saw her for the first time. “That doesn't matter, Marc.”

“Wh—I'm  _not—_ ”

“I know you're not Spector, but I know he's listening. He is in control here, not you.”

“I am—”

“Marc, this is exactly what you came here to keep yourself from doing. You're going to hurt innocent people.”

Moon Knight stepped backwards. “You don't know that. You don't know _anything_.”

“Listen to me. Put the gun down. Leave the way you came. Send Marc to therapy next week.”

_Don't._ Khonshu said.  _Don't you dare._

“We can forget this.” She said. “We can forget this ever happened.”

_Kill her._

_Kill her._

_Kill her._

Marc dropped the gun.

 

Wendy smiled when she saw Marc come in two weeks later. “I didn't think you were coming b—”

“I talked to Marlene.” He was chewing on his lip.

“...Marlene?”

“My ex-girlfriend. Currently sitting at the top of the list of people I didn't deserve to have in my life.”

“You deserve to have friends. Everyone does.”

“Sure. Anyways. I called her. She didn't even recognize my voice. We used to  _live_ together.”

“Well, how long has—”

“Maybe it's because I'm not Grant. He hasn't been out because...Because there's been no reason to have him. I hit my low, and he only wants the highs. His entire  _personality_ is highs.”

“Grant?”

“You know. Steven Grant. Alternate personality. Millionaire. Loves Marlene.”

“You don't love her?”

Marc shrugged. “She left me when Grant stopped hanging around. I loved...The idea of her, maybe. The idea that someone like that could love me.”

“You deserve love, Marc.”

He stared at the floor. “I never really loved her in the first place, did I?”

“Maybe you did. Maybe—”

“Maybe Grant did.”

“Yes.”

He paused. “You're not going to ask me about the stunt I pulled?”

“If you keep my secret, I'll keep yours.” She spoke with two voices. Marc looked up at her, and saw a mask of humanity staring back, a mask he had seen plenty of times before.

Marc sighed. “Of course. Of  _course_ you're not normal.”

“Are you frustrated?”

“No shit. I can't get a girlfriend, I can't get a therapist who isn't  _possessed_ , I—” He exhaled. “I just want a  _break_ .”

_Haven't I been giving you one?_ Khonshu said. He stood in front of Wendy.

Wendy was speaking, but Marc didn't listen. “Are you okay with her now?” He said, nodding towards Wendy.

Khonshu tilted his head.  _It's not like she has any power._ He turned towards her.  _A nutjob with someone to talk to is still a nutjob._

“But her astral power...?”

_Is benevolent, from what I can tell. She could prove a threat to me if she were more powerful, but I doubt that's the case._

“You're being less cautious than usual.”

Khonshu bowed his head.  _If she tries anything, we'll snap her neck like a twig._

Marc turned towards Wendy. “...What were you saying?”

“Do you want to go back to being Steven Grant?” She said, as though nothing had happened.

“Yes. No. I don't know.” Marc stared at the floor. “I know he's a better person, he's the one who deserves our life, but...I was lonely when he took control. I was in the back of our head, pretending I didn't exist.”

Wendy pulled out a notebook. “Can you list all of your personalities for me?”

“Steven Grant, Jake Lockley, Marc Spector. Moon Knight.”

“Could you tell me about them?”

“Grant is a good person. Rich. Pretty. Who I want to be. Lockley is...Dirty. Sly. Who I have to be. Spector is— _I_ am...” He trailed off. “... _Evil._ ”

“Why do you think that?”

“I've hurt a lot of people.”

“You could put that behind you.”

“I  _liked_ it.”

“You like hurting people?”

“I guess. It's instinctual. Something I have to do. To get rid of all this...Anger.  _Vengenace._ ”

“...Tell me about Moon Knight.”

_As if._

“Um. I...”

_Get out._

“I have to go.”

 

Next week, Marc had a black eye. It stuck out from all his other wounds—he wore those casually, cuts and bruises engraved his skin like tattoos. He was anxious about his eye, however, and he kept putting a hand to it, as if he hoped it'd disappear.

“What happened to your eye?” Wendy asked.

“Moon Knight.” Marc lied.

“Has that been dangerous lately?”

_If only._ Khonshu said. He was sitting on the armrest of Marc's chair.

“You want me to die for you?” Marc asked.

Khonshu met his gaze.  _I wouldn't complain._

“Marc?”

“What? This week was fine. I hurt bad people. Nothing new.”

_You're pathetic._

“Are you proud of what you do?”

“What?”

_She doesn't understand you._

“Are you proud of hurting bad people?”

“My opinion doesn't really matter.”

Wendy smiled. “Of course it does.  _You_ matter, Marc.”

_I told you she'd tell you nonsense._

“I don't.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I'm not a good person.”

“Good and bad are subjective terms.”

Marc laughed coldly. “No, they're not. For you, maybe they're not—but for me? I'm bad. I'm the very  _definition_ of bad. I'm the stuff of nightmares. I'm the killer you hear about on the nine-o-clock news. I'm—”

“Marc.”

_You're scaring her. Good. She should be._ Khonshu faced her.  _Raise your voice._

He did. “I'm what goes bump in the night. You know why I wear white? I want everyone to see me coming, because maybe then they'll have a fighting chance. So they'll run and maybe I'll hold back, maybe I'll feel the slightest shred of  _mercy_ . Me and the Knight, we're getting closer and closer. Getting hard to tell us apart—like he's my shadow, or I'm _his._ You know what Marlene said about me once? She talked about me like I was disgusting. She told Grant that Spector was who we used to be, that Steven was better, and I know he was, but I wasn't him, I was hiding while he called the shots, I was hoping I could just hide away and forget I ever existed—”

“Marc.”

He bit his lip and tasted pennies.

“The chair.”

He looked down at his fists. He'd torn the chair's fabric with his grip.

“Are you okay, Marc?”

_Of course not._

Marc inhaled, held his breath, then exhaled. A trick he'd learned from Frenchie. “Marlene gave me the black eye.”

“Why?”

“I came to see her. She yelled at me, and so I yelled back, and—I think she was afraid. She was  _afraid_ of me.”

“How did that feel?”

“ _Bad._ ”

_You're running out of masks. People are starting to see you for all you are._

“I can't hide myself anymore.”

“What will you do then?”

“Tear myself apart.”

 

Next week, Marc had a pack of smokes in his hoodie pocket. Wendy nodded towards them. “I didn't know you smoke.”

Marc felt around for his pack. “I don't. Not usually, I mean. I smoke with friends sometimes.”

“Were you with a friend today?”

He looked at the floor. “No. Just wanted a smoke.”

Khonshu was sitting behind him, crouched on the back of his chair.  _Don't make a habit of it._ He said.  _Your body is my vessel._

“Why did you want to smoke?”

Marc shrugged. “Needed to calm down.”

“Were you high-strung?”

“Yeah.”

“Why's that?”

“I don't—No reason. Can't you ask me something else?”

Wendy looked confused. “Well now I'm curious as to what you're so afraid to talk about.”

“Take the hint.”

She held up her hands. “Alright, I won't push you. What did you do this week?”

“Same as usual, mostly. Moon Knight made his rounds. I...I went to check on Gena and Crawley.”

“Who?”

“Lockley's friends. I always kind of liked them, and I was lonely, so...I don't know. I changed my mind when I saw them. Decided they didn't meed me to come crashing back into their lives.”

“Has Lockley been out?”

“No. Sometimes. But he hasn't gone to see them.”

“Do you miss them?”

“No. I'm just lonely.”

_You're pathetic._

“Not now.”

_You finally decide to give me your attention?_

“Let me have this. Just ten minutes. Please.”

_Don't grovel._

“Khonshu.”

_You have no power over me._

“I know, I know.”

_Then you have five minutes._

Marc realized he had his head in his hands. His hair was matted with sweat from his palms. He his heart felt as though it'd been strangled. Wendy was waiting patiently.

“I—Um. I'm ready to talk about that thing that was bothering me.”

“Was Khonshu stopping you?”

“No, I just didn't want him to be  _listening._ It's personal.”

“I'll be polite, then.”

Marc exhaled.

“Have I ever mentioned Frenchie?

“No.”

“His real name's Jean-Paul. He's got a little mustache like a stereotypical Frenchman, so I've always called him Frenchie. I met him when I was a bounty-hunter.”

Wendy kept quiet.

“He was—he  _is_ my friend. Hell, he was my  _chauffeur_ for a while. He left, like everyone else. Never told him I needed him. Never told him how he made me feel, like  _myself_ , even when I don't know who my  _self_ is.

“A few years back I lost him. Not as in he died, as in he couldn't put up with me anymore. It was hard to put myself together after that. It was hard to stop being mad at him for leaving me.

“Around the same time he introduced me to his lover. Josh...? Jerry? I don't remember his name. He was my personal trainer. Small world, right? He was nice to me, nicer than I deserved. He married Frenchie, eventually. I think part of me was using him to get my friend back.

“I saw Frenchie today. I've been tracking him, seeing if he's ok. He's living in a one-bedroom apartment. I'm guessing Joshy left him, or vice-versa. I wasn't surprised. I knew it wouldn't last. Frenchie's got fire in his veins. He can't settle down. I tried that same thing, and look where it got me.

“...I rang his doorbell. When he answered, I thought he was going to punch me, but he just let me in. We sat around and talked. I didn't tell him how I felt. I asked him if he still loved me. He laughed and shook his head. I was... _Disappointed_ ? I wanted him to miss me as much as I missed him. I wanted him to hurt as badly as I did.”

Marc paused. He looked around for Khonshu, and only proceeded when he was sure his god wouldn't mock him. “I almost kissed him. I really did. I don't know why. I'm not gay, but I wanted to make him want me, I wanted him to miss me as much as I'd missed him.”

Wendy nodded. “Do you love him?”

Marc laughed and shook his head.

 

Moon Knight came to Marc's session plainly. He was more imposing than Marc—he was always slouched forwards, ready to attack.

“Hello, Mr. Knight.” Wendy said. She forced a smile.

“I'm not Mr. Knight.”

“Oh? Marc?”

“I'm Moon Knight. Mr. Knight is someone else.”

“Marc didn't tell me about him.”

“He's new. Spector's scared of him.”

“Why?”

Moon Knight tilted his head. “That's not what I'm here to talk about.” His voice was more gravely than Marc's, but still natural, as though he'd been talking that way his whole life—in a way, he had.

“What would you like to talk about, then?”

“Who you are.”

Wendy shifted uncomfortably. “I'm Wendy Selkey, a psychologist and—”

Moon Knight laughed, hollow and dry, like an old oak tree. “Let's skip that.”

“What makes you think I'm someone else?”

“I don't. Maybe you are Selkey.” Moon Knight shrugged, and somehow, it felt menacing. “But there is an astral force inside you. You're like me. You work for your god. You channel them. You are their knight.”

“I don't think—”

“Wadjet.”

Wendy shut her mouth suddenly.

“She lives inside of you, doesn't she?”

Wendy looked oddly like Marc's mother, then.

" مرحبا، فارس . ”

Moon Knight smiled. “How'd you find us?”

“It wasn't so hard.” Wendy still looked friendly, somehow. “Wadjet is kinder than Khonshu. She gives me abilities...She protects me so I may protect others. I could follow you without being detected.”

“Why track us down in the first place?”

“Khonshu is an unkind god, but not an unstoppable one. We hoped to sway his host to kindness, so he may share that kindness with his enemies.”

“Did you know Spector was a basket case?”

Wendy laughed kindly. “You really don't understand him, do you?”

“I don't want to.”

“Maybe that's where the problem lies.”

“This is not a therapy session.”

“Sure it's not.”

“I'm not letting Spector come back here.” Moon Knight stood to leave.

“Wait.”

He froze.

“You will break him.”

“Good. We can turn his vengeance on the world.”

“He'll turn it on himself, too.”

He didn't answer.

“You do realize he might kill himself, right?”

“Khonshu could find someone else.”

“Moon Knight.”

He turned to her.

“Don't you want to feel _better_?”

Then there was a long moment, where nothing was said, but everything was told.

“He'll see you next week.”

 


End file.
